


As Fate Would Have It

by Pawprinter



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: (kind of), Canon Compliant, Careers (Hunger Games), Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not A Happy Ending, Pre-Canon, Secret Relationship, Training Partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2019-10-22 16:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pawprinter/pseuds/Pawprinter
Summary: Cato and Clove knew they shouldn't love each other, but they didn't care. They were training partners at the academy and had been for years -of coursethey would care about each other. Against all odds, they fell in love. But, as fate would have it, neither of them left that arena.





	As Fate Would Have It

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written and posted on my fanfiction.net account (Pawprinter) back in 2016. It was edited in February 2019.
> 
> I know this is not a popular ship, but I used to find it so fascinating. If you’ve read my The 100/The Hunger Games crossover fic, you probably have realized I love the Careers and I have a lot of headcanons for them. This fic allowed me to explore that. (But, also, isn’t it so heartbreaking in the books the way Clove cried out for Cato to save her and he went running towards her, and she died in his arms??? Yeah. I’m a sucker for tragic endings.)
> 
> This fic takes place just before the 74th Hunger Games. 
> 
> Enjoy!

A fifteen-year-old girl sat on the corner of her bed, a scowl on her child-like face. Her heart was racing and her cheeks were burning. Her eyes were narrowed into slits as she stared at the piece of paper in her hands.

_Danika – 74 th Hunger Games, female tribute_

_Ajax – 74 th Hunger Games, male tribute_

_Rebecca – 75 th Hunger Games, female tribute_

_Cato – 75 th Hunger Games, male tribute_

_Clove – 76 th Hunger Games, female tribute_

_Mason – 76 th Hunger Games, male tribute_

The listing the academy published each year was out, detailing who the volunteers were going to be for the upcoming years. District 2 was known for having pre-selected volunteers for the Hunger Games. It was true; only the best in the academy were allowed to volunteer for the Games. Only the best were allowed to compete and represent their district.

Clove snarled and crumpled up the damn paper. She didn’t want to look at it anymore. All she could see was disappointment. She felt her gut twisting painfully and tears threatened her eyes.

 _Dammit._ She wasn’t going to cry.

She wasn’t set to compete in the Hunger Games for another two years. _That was ridiculous_. That was too far away. _She was ready now_.

She felt hate bubbling up inside of her. She was angry with herself for not trying harder through the year. She was angry she wasn’t good enough. Apparently, she wasn’t good enough to be selected, and she wasn’t as good as she thought she was.

What did they know? Danika was a terrible choice. Clearly, someone was tampering with the selection. That was the _only_ freaking way Clove wasn’t listed as volunteer for this year.

If she volunteered, she would win the Games without a question. She had trained her whole life. She dedicated _hours_ to practice – more than what anyone else could say at the academy.

Still, that wasn’t good enough apparently. She should’ve guessed as much. The Victors and Peacekeepers in charge of training them thought she was too small to put up a fight if needed, and _apparently_ she didn’t control her temper.

_Screw them._

Despite trying her hardest, a few angry tears leaked out of her eyes. Somehow, it made what she was feeling worse. She swiped at them angrily.

Who were they to say she wasn’t good enough? They were old and _clearly_ picking favourites. She knew she should’ve kissed ass like Danika did. Clove knew she was good enough – she would be able to win, if they allowed her to volunteer.

“Clove?” The girl jumped at the voice, quickly wiping her tears away from her face. She spun to face her bedroom door, just in time to see her training partner walk through the door.

Even though she felt like her life was falling to pieces, she couldn’t help but noticed _how damn good he looked._ His blonde hair was damp and his cheeks were flushed from training. He must’ve come straight to her when the list was released – he hadn’t changed out of the tight-fitting black shirt or his shorts that he wore for training. While his face was usually stony, he looked concerned in that moment, making her heart break.

“Hi,” she muttered lamely, feeling defeated in that moment.

She wiped her face again and tried to force a smile onto her face. She knew Cato could read her like she was a book, so she wasn’t surprised when he seen right through her façade. The blond haired man frowned deeply and moved towards Clove.

“What’s wrong?”

She was never one to dance around a subject. One of her ex-boyfriends actually _broke up with her_ because she was too blunt and straightforward. _Ass._

“Have you seen the published documents from the academy?” Clove asked. She bit down on the inside of her cheek; her voice sounded hoarse, like she had just been crying. _Which was the truth,_ but she really didn’t want to admit that to Cato.

She trusted him and felt like she was able to be open and vulnerable around him, but she felt so disappointed and so angry that she didn’t want to seem even _more_ weak that day.

Cato sat down beside her slowly, taking one of her small hands in his large, calloused one. “I have,” he said slowly. “I see you have, too,” Cato added, gesturing to the crumped paper on the floor. Clove’s face screwed up in pain and her heart lurched. Hell, it felt like someone had stabbed her in the stomach and twisted the knife.

“Screw them,” she growled, kicking the paper across the room. She tried to hide her pain and hurt behind anger. Usually, it worked. It was easy to be angry. It was easy to find hate in the world. At least, it was easier than admitting that she hurt and was in pain. “They don’t think I’m good enough!” She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Cato squeezed her hand, trying to bring her back to the present. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice gentle. It made Clove pause, her anger faltering. He _rarely_ used that tone with her – with anyone, actually. It made her heart flutter. “They think you could be _great._ ”

Her anger was back full force. She clenched her jaw tightly. “They _think_ I could be,” she mocked his words. She knew it wasn’t fair to take her anger out at him, but she couldn’t help it. “I _am_ great, no questions!”

“Clove,” he said, his voice firmer than before. “Just think about this rationally. Okay?” She shot him a dirty look. _She was being rational._ “They think you’ll be even greater in two years, when you’re seventeen,” he pointed out. Clove snorted, clearly not amused by his response. “Plus, I’m not listed until next year.”

She scoffed and yanked her hand out of his. “You don’t get to say that, Cato,” she snapped. “You’ve been chosen to compete at the Quarter Quell – that’s even more honorable than getting chosen to compete this year. Of course they would save their best tributes for next year.” Some of her anger left her. She smiled in his direction. “I am proud for you though. You know that, right? I’m happy for you.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. Her heart fluttered again. “I know.” He pulled back and smiled at her. “Just be glad that you’re listed in general,” he said. “That’s a big enough honor on its own. Most students never get chosen. Most people don’t get to go to the Games; only the top two, every year.”

“I know that,” Clove sighed. She rubbed her head, her shoulders falling. She felt tired and deflated. He was right. She should’ve been happy that she was chosen to volunteer at all. _But she wasn’t._ Why wasn’t she? “I don’t _feel_ honoured. I feel disrespected.” It was hard admitting those emotions. It was always easier to hide behind anger. “Why am I not good enough for this year? Why am I not good enough for the Quarter Quell?” Her bottom lip quivered the slightest bit. Tears pricked at her eyes.

_She wanted to be good. She wanted to be better._

Something shifted in Cato. He pulled back from her, his lip curling up. “You would really want to compete with me at the Quarter Quell?” Cato asked, clearly offended. She knew she should lie to him – she should tell him that she would sacrifice her own dreams so he could compete. That’s what he wanted to hear, wasn’t it? She knew she shouldn’t _want_ to compete in the same year he was, but she did. It was the truth. She couldn’t change the truth. Instead of lying, she simply shrugged. Cato scoffed. “Clove, that’s the most _idiotic_ thing I’ve _ever_ heard!”

She bit back a harsh comment. Why couldn’t she wish to compete in the Quarter Quell? Why did _he_ get to want that, but not her? “Well, sorry, Cato, but it isn’t like I’ll be able to compete in the next one.”

“So, you would rather compete against me than just compete in a normal Game?” he questioned, his arms crossing. He was upset.

She knew why. _Only one of them could come out if they both went in together._ It would throw everything away; their friendship, their relationship, their future. If they competed in separate years, they would at least be able to live their lives together as Victors.

She knew this. She understood it. Still, she couldn’t pretend she didn’t dream of competing the the Quell – it was the biggest honours someone could have. It just so happened he had the same dream.

“Yes,” she said, her voice determined. “I would rather compete next year than any other year.” Before he could say anything else, she beat him to it. “You don’t want to compete against me?”

“Of course not.”

“Why don’t _you_ just compete in a normal Games, if you don’t want to compete with me?” she questioned, her voice low. It hit her that she was too heated. The annoyance bled out of her. “You know I’ve dreamt of this just as long as you have,” she said, her voice soft.

With those words, the tension left his shoulders. He slumped forward, looking as utterly defeated as Clove felt in that moment. Clove reached forward, her fingers outstretched. Cato didn’t hesitate to wind his fingers with hers.

They locked eyes and Clove felt warmth spread through her. “ _I love you, Clove._ ” The tenderness in his voice sent her heart racing. “If we compete in the same Games, both of us wouldn’t make it out alive, you know that, right?”

Clove sighed and gripped his hand tighter. “I know… I’m sorry,” she muttered.

She _was_ sorry for snapping at him. She wasn’t sorry that their dreams clashed so much. It wasn’t up to him though – and it wasn’t up to her. That aspect of their futures was completely out of their hands. There wasn’t a point in being angry with him.

“I can’t imagine competing in the same Games as you,” Cato continued, his voice holding that same tenderness as before. Laced with it was pain – a pain she was all too familiar with. “If we compete together, I would rather die than lose you. I would rather die than see you get hurt.” Hurt blossomed through her. She didn’t want to think of it.

It was an impossible situation, but it still broke her heart. The idea of seeing Cato hurt and not being able to do anything about it made her heart break. _She loved him so much._ Watching him suffer would be the greatest torture anyone could inflict on her.

“I don’t know what I would do if you died in the arena.” Clove squeezed his thigh reassuringly, but he didn’t respond. “On top of that, I would be so caught up in protecting you and watching for you that I wouldn’t remember how to be a proper Career.” His jaw locked. “If we’re the last two in the arena, do you know what would happen? One of us would have to kill the other.” Clove went numb at that idea. “It’s expected of us – it’s expected as a Career. _To be a killer._ To not hesitate.” He swallowed thickly. “I wouldn’t be able to do it.” He turned his gaze to her. “What would you do, Clove?” His eyes bore into hers. “What would you do if _I_ died?”

“I would be lost,” she answered simply, no hesitation to her answer. Tears were threatening to build, just thinking of losing her best friend, training partner, and love. It would destroy her. Losing him, killing him, living without him. _It would destroy her._

He gently squeezed her hand. “I would be lost, too.” He chuckled, his voice without humor. “One of us would have to die eventually, which would send the other into a frenzy. _We would both die._ ”

“You’re right.”

“And what would you do if we were the last two?” Cato asked, circling back to his previous thought. “Would you kill me?”

“I-” She choked on her words. She couldn’t. _She wouldn’t._ “No.” She shook her head, feeling firm with her answer. “No. I won’t ever hurt you, Cato.”

He reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her eyes. “And I wouldn’t hurt you either.” He smiled grimly. “We would both be labeled as weak and we would be outcast from everything,” he told her. “No matter which one of us wins in that situation. If we hesitate to kill, we aren’t true Careers.”  He licked his lips and grimaced. “If I had to kill you, I couldn’t live with myself. I would rather they have _no Victor_ than live with knowing that I was the one to kill you.” Clove shut her eyes tightly, squeezing Cato’s hand until her knuckles were white.

Her chest was filled with pain just thinking about it. It felt like her heart was burning.

“Why are we talking about this, Cato?” Clove asked, her voice weak.

“You brought it up,” he pointed out. They were silent for a few moments, each thinking of that grim future. Clove was glad they weren’t assigned to volunteer for the same year, or this conversation would be much more painful. “Although, the only good thing that would come from being in the arena with you, would be that I would be able to help and protect you as long as I could.”

Clove snorted. “I don’t need protection, Cato. I can handle anything myself.”

“I know. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t give it.” He brushed her cheek with his finger and she blushed. Even though they were hardened and trained killers, he was still able to be so vulnerable with her and she was able to do the same with him. She trusted him more than anyone else in her life.

“I love you,” Clove said, her voice thick with emotion. She lunging at the blond male and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He pulled away too quick, clearly concerned about something.

“Hold on,” Cato muttered, his voice distant. His eyes weren’t focused on hers, rather, they were focused on her shoulder. His eyes had caught sight of a bruise on her shoulder when her top slid when she moved. Her heart skipped a beat, but for an entirely different reason. "What is this?" he asked, his voice hallow. Cato lightly touched the bruise and Clove winced. He immediately withdrew his hand.

He looked at her, his eyes wide and full of concern. Her heart jumped to her throat from his concern. _Gods,_ he could be so sweet when he wanted to. She wanted to run her thumb across his forehead, smoothing out the lines of worry. She wanted to kiss his worries away.

“It’s a bruise,” she said.

Even though she tried to keep her tone light, she knew this was a big deal to him. Even though they were training partners and sparred all of the time, he hated hurting her, just like she hated hurting him. She knew how he must’ve felt in that moment; ridden with guilt.

“You can touch it,” she offered. She knew that when he was injured, all she wanted to do was trace his skin with her fingers and sooth the hurt with her lips. It seemed that was what he wanted to, as his hand immediately came up to trail lightly over the damaged skin.

“How did you get it?” he asked, his voice tight. When she didn’t respond, he locked eyes with her. “Clove?” He looked worried and it broke Clove’s heart. “How did you get these?” he pressed.

“During training,” she responded, trying to sound indifferent about it all. She hoped it would let him know that she didn’t hold him responsible. He was always so gentle, but accidents did happen when they were trying to smack each other with blunt-ended swords.

Cato recoiled, his lips pulling back. “I did this?” he questioned, horror in his voice. Without giving her time to respond, he got up from the bed, his hand running through his hair. He glanced at her, his eyes broken. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

He tugged gently on his hair. “I wish you would’ve to told me that I was hurting you.”

Clove stood up to the bed and walked to meet him. She reached for his hand. “It didn’t hurt at the time,” she told him. He didn’t look convinced. “I swear, Cato. It comes with the profession.” She really hoped he would laugh at her attempt at humoring him. They both knew they didn’t train for a profession.

He gently cupped her face. “I never want to hurt you.”

She reached up, holding his hand that was resting against her cheek. “I know you never mean to,” she promised him. And he didn’t. He never meant to hurt her. “We are training partners. We fight with each other all of the time.” They would spar each other for hours. _Swords, knives, archery –_ anything. No matter who she trained with, she always come home with an extra bruise or an extra cut. In fact, Cato was the most cautious person that she trained with. Out of everyone, she got the least amount of bruises from him. She knew it was because he didn’t want to hurt her. “I’m sure I’ve given you bruises, too.”

“That’s not my point.” Clove raised her eyebrows, challenging him. _What was his point, then?_ He groaned. “I just… I wish you told me when you seen them. We can always change our routine. I can adjust my hits or my strength or whatever! Just let me know.”

“I know,” Clove responded. “Don’t worry, Cato.” She said his name with such tenderness. Just a few words held so much love. “We’ve been doing this for years. I can handle a bruise or two.”

Cato brushed her cheek softly. “I love you. I never want to be the one to hurt you.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there. He continued to place soft kisses along her arm, leading up to her shoulder. His lips pressed against the cloth of her shirt once he reached her shoulder – where the bruises lay. Clove’s eyes fluttered shut, reveling in the feel of his lips on her body.

_She loved him so much._

Slowly, his lips left her shoulder and she reopened her eyes, instantly locking onto his piercing blue eyes. Their noses were inches apart, their hot breaths mixing with the others.

Clove wrapped her arms around Cato’s neck and pulled him in for a tight hug. Cato buried his nose into her hair and wrapped his arms around her back. She could spend hours in his embrace. It was so safe for her.

Clove’s heart throbbed. She loved this man so much. She didn’t think she could ever love anyone more than she loved him. She _didn’t_ love anything more than she loved him – not even her knives or her training, which was saying a lot. She had dedicated her whole life to training for the Games.

She could imagine the day where they lived together in Victor’s Village. They would have their own homes, right beside each other, as they would win two consecutive Games. After they made their relationship public, they would eventually pick the more desirable house, and move into it. _Together_.

Clove was never a romantic girl, but the thought of living with the love of her life for the rest of her days only brought a smile to her face and made her knees go weak.

_She didn’t know what she would do without Cato._

Clove didn’t even realize she was leaning forward until Cato was leaning down, moving to capture her lips with his. They connected with such force that Clove stumbled backwards a few steps. He wrapped his arms tightly around her small frame, pulling her into his body, steading her once again.

Clove sighed against his lips, a smile forming on her lips. Her hands found their way to the back of his head, her fingers threading into his blond locks. This was safe. This was familiar.

She wanted to keep kissing him, but _she couldn’t._ They didn’t have time right now. As she pulled away, the promise of later lingered on her lips.

At least that was one good thing about not volunteering for the Games later that day; she would be able to catch secret moments with him everyday for the next year. Now _that_ was something to be excited by.

As they pulled away from each other, their chests were heaving. Their foreheads were pressed together, still desperate for a slice of intimacy.

“Clove!” Clove’s mother’s voice pierced the air. The two teenagers jumped away from each other instantly. They still needed to hold onto the act of being training partners. If anyone found out about their true feelings towards each other, she wouldn’t doubt there would be consequences at the academy. “You need to get ready for the reaping!”

“Okay!” she called out, still not looking away from Cato’s eyes.

They still had a few more minutes and she was not about to waste them. They moved back to that position, their foreheads pressed together and their hands pressed against the other, for what felt like an eternity, each peacefully drinking in the other.

After only minutes passed, he pulled away from her. He swooped down to capture one brief kiss before smiling widely at her. “I’ll see you at the reaping,” he said. Clove returned his smile, feeling her heart swelling with love for him.

“I’ll see you there.” She pressed a final kiss to his lips.

_That was the last time their lips ever met._

As fate would have it, Clove was reaped for the Games later that day. Danika, the chosen tribute for the year, suffered an injury during training earlier and she never volunteered. Nobody dared volunteer in place of Clove, knowing she was the academy’s next choice.

Not wanting to lose her, Cato volunteered himself in place of the boy chosen by the academy.

_As Cato predicted, neither of them left the arena._

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to capture their heat and their sharp personalities with this fic, but I also tried to capture the idea that they would have a soft spot for each other.
> 
> If anyone else is curious about my headcanons for what happened during their time in The Hunger Games, their mentors discouraged their relationship and kept it from the cameras. They're Careers and Careers are meant to be ruthless - having someone they cared about with them made them vulnerable and ruined the appearance that they were ruthless. And, of course, this explains why Cato would be so impacted by Clove's death in the arena.
> 
> Anyways - if you haven't already, I highly suggest reading the book The Hunger Games if you ship these two. There is a lot more content of them there than in the movie (still crumbs of content, but... still.)
> 
> Thanks for reading. Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
